


We're Gonna Start a Fire

by IWillBeTheEndofYou



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Sex, Blood, F/F, F/M, Hannibal can make everything go away, Hannibal is strict, Heartbreak, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Rimming, Teacher-Student Relationship, University, Vaginal Sex, depictions of violence and gore, no underage here, so much blood, someone save Will Graham, sorry this is such a cliche
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is desperate to finish his degree so he can join the police academy early. Hannibal Lecter, guest professor, is teaching the toughest course on campus. When he sees the empath in his classroom, sparks are bound to fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [novastar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/novastar/gifts).



> I wrote this because my sister and I were talking about being a student of Hannibal's. I said I would be so intimidated, I would drop out of school to become a hobo. So, of course, I put Will in that situation.

Will Graham sank into his seat. He pushed his glasses high up on his nose with a sigh. The back was much better than this, as it gave him the chance to slip out as soon as they were dismissed, or even if he just couldn't stand being in the same room with all those bodies. But this was a small class, and sitting in the back would make him more likely to get called on.

Then again, he reasoned to himself. Small class. He was likely to e called upon anyway. He squirmed in his seat, eyeing the door as the rest of the students came piling in. Altogether, there were maybe twenty of them. This was a class by special invitation only, being taught by a guest professor who normally didn't teach anymore.

The classroom was bubbling with whispers and nudging, eyeing one another up. Will just kept his eyes down at his binder covered with band stickers. He traced the shape of one of them. He didn't listen to most of these, honestly, he just liked the way they looked. He realized it made him some kind of fake, but he didn't care.

A hush fell over the room then.

“Good afternoon.” a heavy voice case from the doorway. The man walked with his chin held high, shining briefcase dangling from his wide hand. One girl raised an eyebrow at his suit, plaid and a little bit loud. Something about him, something about the curve of his thin upper lip made him able to carry it off, though.

He strode to the desk, setting down his case and lifting up a whiteboard marker. In broad strokes, he wrote his name on the board. He frowned at the marker, putting the cap on it and resting it back on the ledge of the whiteboard.

“My name is Doctor Hannibal Lecter.” he came to stand in front of the desk and cross his arms over his chest. “You've all been selected for this class because another professor saw something in you that they thought I could mold, something in you that could make you great in this field.”

The girl next to Will snapped her gum thoughtfully. Dr. Lecter's sharp eyes fell on her and just remained for a second. A hot blush rose up on her cheeks, and she cleared her throat before squirming uncomfortably. Her humiliation spread to Will, and he pleaded with himself not to blush. It wasn't even warm enough in the room to mumble that he was just too hot.

“I do not tolerate eating food in my classroom, texting, whispering, speaking out of turn, drinking anything other than water,” here his eyes went back to the girl. “Or chewing gum. Spit it out, please.” he nodded to the trash can by the door. 

She gathered up her books and ran towards the can, tossing her gum as she flounced from the room. Dr. Lecter watched her go with something like an amused smile playing at the corner of his lips. He went to the briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers. 

“There's always one or two who find they can't quite make the cut. Best to weed them out now. If any of you don't think you can abide by my rules, you are free to leave now, judgement free. I require only the best from my students, and in return, I will impart upon you knowledge you'll find nowhere else.” he began to pass out the papers.  
“Here you will find your syllabus, along with any required reading for the course. You can find them all in digital format, if that is your preference.” Will took a stack without looking at the man's face. It was enough that he could smell his cologne, heady and thick, deep and dark. There was something familiar about it that Will couldn't quite name; something so entirely masculine he wanted to roll himself in that smell and stay forever.

Instead of dwelling too long, he let his eyes flick to the syllabus. The course was grueling, but it would count for three of his remaining psychology credits. It would keephim on track for graduating early, and then he was more likely to get accepted in the police academy. 

“So, some of you may be wondering why exactly I was asked to teach this class instead of one of the tenured professors here. I have first hand insight into the mind of a killer. I was the psychiatrist of Abel Gideon, now famed as the Chesapeake Ripper. Have many of you read about the case?” Dr. Lecter paused to look around the room. Will and a few others raised their hands. Will was interested in any case he could read about.  
“Very good,” the praise sent a shiver down his spine. Especially when the doctor's eyes landed on him for a moment. He could almost feel the maroon orbs scanning him, memorizing him from his messy curls to his worn sneakers. “It does seem that some of you are destined to do very well in this class. To the rest of you, I bid you good luck.”

****

“So, how was it?” Alana was waiting for him, eager and bright eyed. He smiled to see her chestnut hair, tension oozing out of his body. “Is he brilliant? Did you love what he had to say? Tell me everything!”

Alana, girlfriend of three years, lovely and charming, outgoing and delightful, everything that Will wasn't. He stopped and pecked her on the lips, just to see her smile in that shy way of hers. She shifted her books from her midriff to a hip, her free hand loosely gripping Will's.

“He was different, all right.” Will exhaled deeply, a breath he didn't know he had been holding. “Made one of the girls leave in tears for chewing gum.”

“Oh, he's very big on manners. Won't even open the door if you show up a few minutes late.” she nodded seriously. When Alana heard that he was going to teach a lecture, she had been desperate to be part of it. She had been heartbroken to learn it was strictly for criminology majors, and since she was a psychiatry major, she was barred from the chance to attend. But having her boyfriend there would be almost as good, she reasoned.

“He's also big on the reading.” he slipped her the reading list, watching her eyebrows raise.

“Lucky you that you've only got three other classes this semester.”

“Only? One of them is anatomy. With the lab.” he scowled, resenting the idea that his courseload was anything but hectic.

“Relax, babe.” she grinned at him until he had to smile back, elated by her being happy to be near him. “I'm just teasing you. Besides, you know that I'll be there to help. So will Beverly.”

“She's less of a help and more a hindrance.” he mumbled. Beverly, the other woman in his life, had been his best friend since kindergarten. She had seen him sitting all alone in the sandbox, and dumped a load of sand in his hair. So he had pushed her down.

Little Beverly just stood up, brushed herself off, smiled, and declared Will her new best friend. Apparently she'd been looking for someone who would fight back. They'd had each other's backs ever since. Will was the one she went to after she kissed Kacey Sayler at a party and realized how much she liked it. She came back to him a week later when her parents said they weren't okay with her being a lesbian and she needed to knock it off.

And, Will had gone to Beverly for help asking Alana out. Or when his dad was gone for too many nights and his apartment seemed to empty. Or sometimes, just when he wanted a home cooked meal. They had slept in the same bed together, in a completely platonic way. Sometimes, Will thought, it was nice to have someone near you without that kind of pressure. 

“But you love her anyway. And me,” Alana added with a crinkle to her nose.

“And you,” Will agreed softly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another class, Will and Dr. Lecter share a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thrilled you guys like this so far!

Will spent much of the next class not looking up too often. He kept my pen moving, jotting down the words as they flowed from Dr. Lecter's mouth. It gave him something to concentrate on other than the way the man's maroon eyes seemed to land on him a little often. Besides, Alana had demanded he take copious notes so she could learn along, too.

“So, Mr. Gideon was extremely manipulative, I think we call agree on that, yes?” the doctor waited for everyone to nod along. Will was grateful that he didn't call on people too often. This wasn't about him making them vomit back information, this was more about them having a (very one sided) conversation with him. It was easy enough for him to dutifully nod along when the situation called for it. Would that all the classes during his college career would be like this.  
“But have any of you every thought about why, exactly?”

“Isn't that just what people with personality disorders do?” one girl raised her hand. “That's one of the hallmark symptoms.”

“Very true,” Dr. Lecter nodded to her with a smile. “And we are all at fault of being manipulative at some point or another. And mostly for selfish reasons, much the way Abel Gideon did. What I would like to present to you is the idea that perhaps we're not so different from him.”

Will looked up sharply then. A strange heat spread from the back of his neck down his shoulders. The words were ringing in his ears. His pulse was suddenly throbbing in his ears as Dr. Lecter came around his desk and strolled in the area in front of the room. He happened to stop just before Will's desk.

“What, exactly, makes some of us suppress our dark urges? What makes others give in to them?” the room was thoughtful, although a few of the students were looking at the professor as though he suggested they were growing horns.   
“What makes you so different from Abel Gideon? Or me?” he crossed his arms. “Think about it. That's all the time we have for today.”

Will felt like he was moving through honey. Dr. Lecter's words washed over him, and the thrumming in his ears seemed to drown everything else out. A few of the others swarmed his desk, waiting to speak with him. To his credit, Dr. Lecter took a few moments to speak with everyone, to answer their questions or make a suggestion about reading material. 

He raked his hand through his hair, tousling the curls as he slowly put his books in his bag. He liked being in the room, smelling the cologne and watching the corners of the doctor's lips quirk up in a quick smile. He had a feeling the doctor's expression could go deeper, and he wanted to see it. It was like an ache inside him, that desire.

“Mr. Graham was it?” the younger jumped, almost spilling his bag. His ears went red as she scrambled out of the seat. The last of the others were trickling out of the room.  
“Did you need something?”

“Oh what? Me? No, no, I'm good.” he stammered. All he really needed was a brain transplant. 

“Well, if you're certain.” the doctor eased back to his desk and pulled out some papers. Will wasn't sure if he should feel elated that the older man was ignoring how terribly awkward he was, or crushed because he was being dismissed.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door, hands in his pockets. Alana would be waiting. Somehow, the thought didn't cheer him up as much as he had hoped it would. But it was better than nothing. Who was he to think that Dr. Lecter would want to talk to him especially anyway? There were plenty of very bright students in the class who were much more outgoing and less pitiful than he was. 

Alana hovered at the door for him, barely peeking inside. She lit up when she saw him walking towards her, her arms going up for a hug. Will was thrilled to oblige her, winding himself tightly around her, inhaling the smell of her, vanilla and sugar. Alana was an anchor to him, reminding him how far he had come, and exactly what he was doing in college.

“How was it?” she asked, as they walked farther into the hallway. 

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “Let's get something to eat, babe, I'm starving.” 

His arm looped around her shoulders, the silk of her hair brushing against his skin. But Will gave one glance over his shoulder, capturing a glimpse into the classroom. Dr. Lecter was sitting in his chair, pen pressed to the corner of his lip. His eyes never left the image of them departing the room.

****

“Graham!” Zeller waved from their table. He was fortunate enough to have his anatomy lab with some old high school friends. Beverly was sitting at the very end, wriggling her fingers at Will. She struggled to get her enviously long hair into a ponytail.

Wordlessly, Will dropped his bag in his chair and took the hair tie from her. He swept her hair up and back, just a hint of bangs falling in her eyes. He knew her well enough to know she liked her hair. She gave him a grateful grin as Price looked on.

“You never do my hair.” he mumbled to Zeller.

“Because you don't let it grow long enough, dear.” Zeller rolled his eyes. They had only been dating six months, but it felt like they were an old married couple. There was something comfortable about watching the two of them interact. Will wondered if people felt that way watching he and Alana, like there really was something to be said for young love.

“Well you could try.” Jimmy sniffled as Brian reached into a pocket and withdrew a lollipop.

“Your blood sugar is low, you always get crabby when it's low.” before Jimmy Price could respond, the instructor came bustling in.

“We've got a lot to cover and not a lot of time, so eyes on me please me.” she said briskly. “We're going to begin today with the skull....” her voice faded into white noise as Will followed the motions of his lab partners.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Alana's first time.

“So do you like his class?” Alana sat on the bed in his cramped closet of a room. Will shared the apartment with Beverly, and she had manasged to snag the bigger room. He wasn't sure by what virtue, but being that he spent more of his time studying and not entertaining, like she did, he supposed it didn't really matter.

“I do,” Will nodded, leaning against the wall as he sat on the floor, organizing his lab notes. He paused to look at her, sitting with her legs folded pretzel style. Her hair was damp from a shower, loose around her back. She'd snagged one of his tshirts to wear to bed, along with a pair of his looser boxers. 

Will liked seeing her in his clothes. He liked knowing that the smell of him, his detergent, his body wash, hell even his bed, would seep into her pores. Maybe tomorrow someone would walk up to speak to her and be able to scent him. And they'd know that she belonged to someone else. Will eased up on his knees and stretched his arms over his head.

“He seems like a brilliant man.” Alana sighed, looking wistful. “I still wish I could have been in that class. I would have loved to be able to hear him speak and watch him move.”

“Careful now,” he brushed some curls out of his eyes. “I may start to get jealous if you don't watch it.”

“Oh, babe.” she giggled, holding her arms out to him. “You know you're the only one for me.”

With a mock growl, Will clambered onto the bed. Alana burst into giggles as he crawled over her, forcing her to lay down flat on her back. This was nothing new to them. They'd done, more or less, everything but the act of sex itself. Not that he wasn't ready for it, but she said she didn't think she was. So they settled for blow jobs and clumsy hand jobs and pressing against one another through their underwear. And it was heavenly, even if there was something nagging in the back of his mind, something dark with claws that begged for more. Will was happy to be with her, at any rate.

It wasn't long until Will's fingers threaded through her hair, his lips crashing against hers. Her nails were pulling at his own sleep shirt, trying to ease it off his back. With a grin, he sat back, happy to let her remove it. When he was bare to the waist, she let her fingers trace up and down his stomach, over his chest, her palms pressing over his heartbeat.

“I love you.” he said softly. “I worry I don't tell you that enough.”

“You don't have to tell me.” she murmured against his mouth, breath blowing hot through his faint stubble. “You show me. Every day, you show me.”

Will moaned softly as her hips rose to meet his. He felt his soft sleep pants growing tight against his erection and pressed to meet her. His fingers slipped up the hem of her t shirt to cup the breasts underneath. She never bothered to put a bra back on after a shower. His thumbs, still rough from the work he'd done a the boatyard that summer, grazed her nipples. 

“Mmm!” her back arched and he gasped as he felt her heat through the layers of fabric. Her nails dragged down his back to the waistband of his pajama pants. Will was happy   
to shimmy out of them and kick them to the bottom of the bed. He burrowed his face into her neck to lap at the tender, sweet flesh he found there. He allowed himself the pleasure of giving her small love nips, careful not to leave a mark. She didn't like that, didn't like how people would notice and just raise their eyebrows at her. She said it made her feel cheap.

Will moved along to her collarbone, biting slightly harder. Her skin was hot, and he could almost taste the copper of her blood running beneath. He wanted, suddenly, to bring it to the surface. He wanted to puncture her skin with his teeth and taste her life force running over his mouth, sliding into him and nourishing his body.

Alana's fingers were up and down his spine, scratching slightly. There had been one heated afternoon, towards the end of their first year dating. Her parents thought they were studying, but still insisted they leave the door cracked open.

They'd ended up sprawled across her bed, decorative pillows surrounding them. Posters of Fall Out Boy and All Time Low stared down at them, but Will thought they were easy enough to ignore. Or pretend they were watching. You know, either or. They had to be quiet, their moans and small laughs hidden in shoulders. Alana had been rubbing his back when she slipped, her nails digging in.

“Oh!” she had pulled away, afraid she had hurt him. But Will only arched his back, trying to get more of the contact. Turned out he liked a little pain during times like these. And while she was still shy about it, Alana did like to give it.

“Harder,” he hissed to her now. She smirked, her thighs opening farther for him to slide more comfortably between them. Her nails scraped away a layer of skin, and he closed his eyes blissfully. Tomorrow, the shower water would sting against him, and he would love it. He loved little reminders of his time with her.

“Will...” she swallowed, her hands leaving his back. She began to sit up, looking him full on as she began to peel off the t shirt. She licked her lips and eased the boxers and her panties down her body. Will paused. They almost never laid completely naked together, because they both could smell temptation rising from the other. 

He stared at her for a moment, to the tender join of her thighs to her hips, to the groomed tuft of dark hair that rested on her mound. He glanced from it to her as she gave the tiniest smile and parted her legs.

“Do you want to do this?” he asked quietly. They both knew what he was asking, and why. Once he got started, there would be no way he would be able to stop. She only nodded, her hair fanned out like a mermaid on his pillow. Will shucked out of his underwear and laid between her legs.  
“God, you're dripping wet.”

Her heat seemed to radiate into his cock. He smelled it, sweet and somehow raw, one of the most real scents he'd ever encountered. Reverently, Will reached down and touched her, felt that wetness. She keened when his fingers dipped between her lips to test how open she was. He pumped slowly a few times before letting his finger slide out and circle around her clit.

“Oh fuck,” she cursed softly. He laughed, his body vibrating above hers. He repaid her lapse with a kiss before letting his finger back into her. He didn't want to hurt her, not here on their first time, although he knew that was very possible.

Will needed to go slow. He needed to give her time to adjust. He reached over to his bedside table and pulled out the pack of condoms. With trembling hands, he opened the foil and rolled it on. Alana bit her lip.

“We don't have to.”

“I want to.” she insisted. “Please, Will. Please.”

Fingers careful, Will adjusted her hips, coaxing her forward until her legs were wrapped around him. He paused for a moment, bending to kiss her, his hands bunching up the sheets at either side of her head. He felt her nodding against him and allowed his hips to sink, inch by inch into her. She gasped, and he felt her tense.

“Shh,” he crooned, stroking her hair. She pursed her lips before nodding again. When Will was finally seated into her, he forced himself to stay in one spot. All he wanted was to lift most of the way out and sink into her again. But, of course, that would cause her more pain. She needed to be able to stretch and get herself used to the feeling.

“Okay,” she finally whispered.

Ever so slowly, gingerly, Will pumped in and out of her. Her eyes closed and her head fell to the side as she lifted her hips up to meet him. If nothing else, at least she was participating. And he did like the feel of this, of being so connected to her. His face burrowed into her neck. She brought her hands up to drag down his back again.

His head fell back as he picked up his pace ever so slightly. To his own embarrassment, he was close. He made a small noise at the back of his throat.

“Alana...” he warned.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes.”

“But you didn't.”

“Don't worry about it. I want to feel you come like this.” she opened her eyes and smiled. It was the smile that did it. He was spasming and spilling into the condom. He eased out of her and rolled to the side. He gathered her in arms arms, pressing her slightly sweaty body to his.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt?” he peppered her hairline with kisses.

“I'm fine.” she laughed softly. “No, it didn't hurt. I mean, it was sort of uncomfortable. But I do want to do it again. With you.” she nuzzled into him as he stripped off the condom and tossed it into his trash. Her head rested on his chest, her fingers tracing patterns onto his chest.  
“Do you still love me?”

“What? Of course.” he blinked. “Why wouldn't I?”

“I don't know.” she shrugged. “Because it wasn't like a porn.”

“Life is not a porn.” he laughed softly before pulling the blanket up over them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal have a one on one session.

When Will walked into Dr. Lecter's class for the next session, it was empty. He glanced at his wrist watch, with it's gold face and leather band, a Christmas gift from Alana. The time was right, but maybe he'd set it a bit early. He sat in his normal seat to wait.

“Ah, Mr. Graham, I had hoped you would stick around.” Dr. Lecter came bustling into the room, placing his briefcase on the desk. “You're probably wondering where everyone else went. I emailed the, and cancelled class for today.”

“Did you?” he blinked. “I didn't check before I got here.”

“I didn't send you one.” the doctor was carefully removing his long wool coat and hanging it on the back of his chair. “I thought it would be beneficial for us both if we could maybe have a private tutoring session.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No, no, quite the opposite.” he came to lean against the front of the desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Your paper on what makes us supress our dark urges was one of the best that I have ever read.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” his cheeks were going pink, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn't work that hard on it, though.”

“Don't downplay your talents, Will.” the room grew a heavy silence, like mold on old food. Will wanted to squirm, wanted to snatch up his bag and run away. It would be better to drop out of this university and take up mechanics at the community college. It would be less dangerous for his soul, he knew, and he would never have to see the face of Dr. Hannibal Lecter again.  
“Tell me, Will, has anyone ever told you that you have an empathy disorder?”

“A what?” yup, there was that blush again. He'd never liked being questioned closely like this. It gave him a squirmy feeling down his spine, hot and too much. He didn't like someone acting like they were trying to poke around in his head. The grief counselor his dad had sent him to after his Mom died gave up on him quickly.

This kid will have to find his own coping mechanisms. This kid doesn't open up. This kid has too many walls. This kid is bitter. This kid is angry, and if you don't find the proper way for him to vent his anger, you're both going to be in big trouble. This kid won't even make eye contact.... Before the woman with her too-expensive hair cut and chemical perfume could drop the phrase 'autism' his Dad had stood abruptly and left the office.

Will remembered being in his dad's pick up, seven years old. He remembered trying to plaster himself to the door, because then if things got too bad, he could just launch himself out onto the highway. But his Dad hadn't been angry with him, more seething about the lady. When they finally pulled up at yet another broken down apartment, his Dad didn't take the keys from the ignition right away.

“Will?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't you ever, ever let anyone tell you that you're broken. Hear me?” he looked intensely at his son, and for a moment, the little boy wanted to launch across the seat to him. He wanted to wind his arms around his neck, rub his cheek against the stubbly one and look deeply into the blue eyes that were ringed with such marks. 

Will didn't, though. They rarely indulged in such displays of affection.

“Did the lady say I was broken?”

“The lady didn't know what she was talking about.” the older man scoffed. “You're going to meet a lot of people in this world who don't understand you, and they're going to hate you for that. But they're going to hate you because they're scared. People are always afraid of what they don't understand. So I'm going to need you to be my big, brave boy. Even when I'm not with you. You're going to have to remember that the things they tell you aren't true. There's nothing wrong with you, never has been, never will be. Do you understand?” Mr. Graham swallowed hard, staring at the curly haired child in the truck. Sometimes, he himself didn't understand his son. It was less fear and more amazement though. 

“I think so.” Will nodded slowly. 

“Okay.” he finally pulled the keys out. “No more psychologists for you. Not gonna pump my boy full of pills, no sir.” he mumbled.

“No,” Will came back to the present moment, aware that he'd been last in his own head for perhaps a moment or two too long. “No one has ever told me that. There was one   
doctor when I was little that told my dad I was autistic, but he didn't believe her.”

“I don't think you're autistic.” Hannibal cocked his head thoughtfully. “Although I can see how the mix up could occur, given the very little expertise child psychologists usually have in this area. Some of the therapies might have benefited you, though.”

“What does any of this have to do with you, Dr. Lecter?” Will snapped. He sighed then and rubbed his forehead. “Sorry, I know that was rude. I'm just really confused.”

“Fear makes you rude.” the doctor noted softly. Not really a shocking revelation. The young man had undoubtedly faced fear and rudeness his whole life. It was safer for him if he could be surly first when he felt he was on unstable ground with someone. Raise up those walls, protect yourself. Protect what is precious.

But what was precious to Will Graham?

“I'm not afraid.” Will snarled. “I'm just wondering what my professor wants, sitting with me all alone in a dark room. Something so important he couldn't email me about it, or have a private meeting with me in his office. He cancelled a whole class. Now what do you need from me, Doctor?” his hands were clenched into fists.

“I need nothing from you, Will. Nothing at all. I have only a gift to give you.” he stepped closer to Will's desk, pausing when he saw the hitch in his breath. “You are overwhelmed, you are isolated. You have a small group of friends that tolerate your quirks. You've even managed to get a girlfriend, the lovely Miss Bloom I've heard so much about from my colleagues. But you're still terrified, aren't you?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Will stammered.

“You're terrified that she's going to decide you're too much for her. Or that there's someone more suited to her status. She'll get tired of slumming it. You're afraid that your friends are going to grow tired of your quirks and quietly drop out of your life. And you're most afraid of the fact that you'd be okay with being all alone.” Dr. Lecter leaned his hands on the desk and hovered just above Will's face. The younger man could feel his breath blowing through his curls.

“And what if I am?” Will exhaled long and slow. “That's life, isn't it? Nothing I can do to change it.”

“Dearest boy,” Dr. Lecter purred, one hand catching the younger man's chin between thumb and forefinger. “There are a great many things we can do to change our fate. We just have to be willing to take the plunge. Trust me, I am the only one who can help you.” 

***

“Alana?” he asked that evening as they sprawled on her dorm floor, text books and notebooks spread out around them.

“Mmm?” she glanced up, one pencil in her hand, another holding up the messy bun at the back of her head. 

“Do you think that you're slumming it, dating me?”

“Slumming it?” she frowned, put down her pencil and closed her calculus book. “Wherever did you get an idea like that? Did my mother call you?”

“No—wait, did your Mom say something like that?”

“Forget it,” she waved it off before pulling herself up on her knees and stretching her arms high.   
“Did someone say that to you? Because the way I feel about you has nothing to do with where you come from, Will. I thought you knew that. I thought I made it clear.”

“You did. You do.” he frowned. “I guess I was just overthinking something someone said to me.”

“Well, don't.” she laughed and shoved a pillow at him. “Come on, I need a distraction from all this math.”

“Oh, do you?” he grinned and raised an eyebrow. Before he could speak she was rolling him onto his back and straddling his hips. Her hands caught his wrists, though he wasn't apt to struggle too much. When he closed his eyes to receive her kiss, it wasn't chestnut hair and big blue eyes he saw.

It was sandy strands and maroon orbs, along with a coy smirk.


End file.
